


Night Shade

by literaryspell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, prior-to-fic character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-28
Updated: 2011-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-23 04:29:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryspell/pseuds/literaryspell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Closure is impossible when you've never said goodbye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Shade

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to fbs_fic for the incredible beta!

Snape almost wished she wouldn’t come to him.

Almost.

He waited under the arch, as he always did, for the fleeting sensation that she wasn’t quite gone. Sometimes she came… most times, she didn’t. But still, he waited.

When his feet began to ache from his stiff boots, Snape reluctantly took a seat on the unforgiving bench. How fitting that this garden was of flora and stone. That was how he always pictured the two of them. She was forever changing, growing, blooming, blossoming. Made of real things.

Here one minute, gone the next.

And he was stone. Immovable, unchanging, reliable. Always that. And yet her ivy vines wound around him and made alterations to his structure, forcing him to become something he’d never believed he could be. Hers.

Snape irritably flicked the ivy with his fingers, hating the way it bounced right back. He’d thought that was so like Hermione, constantly rebounding. No matter what, she’d always been there. When he was angry and bitter, when he was confused and lost, even when he was content.

How he longed for more of the latter. But it wasn’t right that he be happy when she was… gone. It wasn’t proper, and it wasn’t possible. Without her, there really was no him.

He was as much a spirit as she.

The first time he’d been brave enough to take a walk in their garden after her death, he’d sensed her right away. Angry that he’d spent so much time away from her subtle presence, Snape had remained there for days, even taking meals there, basking in the flowery aroma and fucking brightness that was Hermione. Why did she have to be so damn bright? But he hadn’t felt dull or flat next to her. She’d never made him feel less than… less than complete. But sometimes it hurt to be near her fire, burning so brightly that he’d been fooled into thinking it would never fade.

It wasn’t her fault that her fire had lied.

Snape inhaled sharply as the sensation of Hermione filled every pore and flooded every capillary. She was here.

Merlin, she was really here.

Under the archway, where they’d shared their first kiss so many years ago, a shimmering silvery-white apparition rivalled the moon in its ethereal beauty.

Snape stood haltingly, hating himself for the pounding of his heart and the blurriness of his vision. She’d never appeared so vitally before; she’d always just been a feeling, a sureness that he wasn’t alone.

Though not clear, though not tangible, her outline, her eyes, her hair, were all perfectly recognisable, if a little wispy.

“Hermione…” he whispered, daring to speak even if it broke the spell. It didn’t.

“Oh, Severus,” the ghost said sadly, almost chiding, and it was so obviously her that Snape wanted to scream.

“How…?”

Hermione shrugged. “These things are not set in stone, Severus, you know that.”

“Can I… how can I bring you back to me?”

Hermione smiled softly. He drew himself closer to her, unable to believe that everything he wanted was within his reach, and yet, he couldn’t touch it. Snape had never believed life was fair, but this seemed a stretch even in his experience.

“There’s no coming back, you know that, too.”

“Then why?” he shouted, unaccountable anger razing him. “Why come back at all? Why come and torment me and make me think…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Make me think I’m not alone.”

The spirit drifted closer to him, and he almost stepped back, so hated was this false hope.

“I haven’t been visiting you. This is the first time I’ve seen you since it happened. But I know. I know you’ve been here every night; I know you’ve been waiting. It isn’t right. You are young and so beautiful.” Her hand reached out as if to caress his face, swirling trails of sparkling white. Where she would have touched him, he felt a chill, and the knowledge that he would never have her again.

“You lie,” he spat, brushing away the coolness on his cheek, shocked to find it wet, as well.

“No, Severus. You won’t find happiness in this garden of memories. This isn’t real life. You must live, if not for yourself, then for me. I’ve never asked anything of you, have I?”

“Nothing,” he agreed softly.

“Will you try?”

“There’s no way…?”

Hermione smiled that silly, lopsided smile that had so irritated and inspired him when she’d been alive. “There’s no way.”

“I want to—”

“No, Severus!” Hermione’s ghost was suddenly very serious, and the silver turned to a gunmetal grey as she glared at him. “You cannot come with me. One day, but not now.”

Snape sat heavily on the bench once more. “It hurts,” he whispered, sneering at his own weakness.

“But less every day, yes?”

Snape looked away. Maybe not every day, but it was less eviscerating than it had been in the beginning. He didn’t want her to think he was forgetting her. Her side of the bed was still empty and waiting, as it would be, forevermore.

“That is how it should be,” she continued. “Less every day until it doesn’t hurt, only feels good to remember. I loved you, Severus. I still do, in my ghostly way.” She laughed. A tear spilled from Snape’s eye, unbidden.

“Don’t leave me again.”

Hermione floated in front of him. She touched the underside of his chin, and he tilted his head up to see her. She looked beautiful. Even her hair was perfectly coiffed. He hated it. Her normal hair was so much nicer.

She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against his lips. The wintry touch burned him.

“Don’t forget, all right? Don’t mourn, don’t grieve, the time for that is over. But don’t forget. I’ll see you again. Severus. Severus, my love.”

As she drifted once more beneath the arch, she seemed to be waiting for something.

Snape shook his head. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

But he didn’t get to say it before, and he wouldn’t be robbed of that again.

“Goodbye.”

 

 

The end.  



End file.
